Harry Potter and the Gift of the Fates
by Emma-Lee Clear
Summary: The Fates haven't been kind to Harry. They've dealt him a horrible hand but after Harry suffers two more horrific traumas in the wake of the Department of Mysteries disaster they realize that they have to make it up to him.


**I own nothing in this story but a few minor characters that will either appear or be mentioned throughout. The majority of what is to come belongs to JKR. Please don't sue me. **

Harry lay weakly on the bed in private quarters in Hogwarts and stared at the headmaster. "Sir, I still don't understand what happened. How did you get me out of there?"

Albus saw the expression of total loss and bewilderment on the teenager's face and conjured a replica of his favourite chair, taking a seat next to Harry's bed. He had only been planning on looking in on Harry for a few minutes before the staff meeting he'd organised for this afternoon but now he saw that maybe the best thing to do was postpone the meeting and spend some quality time with his young charge. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened between the golden trio as Harry, Ron and Hermione had become known in recent years but Harry appeared to be avoiding any and all contact with his friends so it appeared that after the hell the boy had been through since the awful night that his godfather had died in the Department of Mysteries a little more than a week ago it was going to be up to him to provide the comfort and support that Harry would need to get through this. He personally hadn't told the Order or the rest of the Hogwarts staff but Severus what Harry had been through and where he was now staying and Harry hadn't told his friends so all the responsibility was going to fall to him, not that he particularly minded.

He reached over and gave Harry an arm to lean on, smiling sympathetically as the teenager struggled into a sitting position, his face contorting in pain. He watched in concern as Harry reached for another of the vials of pain relief potion that lined his bedside table. Harry was still taking the potion at least once every four hours but still appeared to be in a lot of pain. Knowing what a high tolerance for pain that the teenager had, that was a bit of a worry but then again Albus knew it had only been two days since he'd escaped Riddle Manor so it was early days yet; even so he made a mental note to look into finding a stronger potion for him just as soon as he could get a private moment with Severus.

"Harry, I've already told you that you escaped on your own," he said gently, frowning as he remembered the horrible moment when he'd come back from The Three Broomsticks and found the half dead teenager just outside the gates of the school. He'd known that Harry had never been happy in his aunt's home but he'd never even considered the possibility that the Dursleys might hurt Harry so badly that the young man had started wishing he was dead and then coldly kick him out of the house. When Harry felt up to having others know what had happened to him Albus intended to make those who had threatened the Dursleys at Kings Cross after the Hogwarts Express pulled in and provoked the first traumatic attack on him, the attack that had seriously weakened Harry's defences for when the deatheaters had kidnapped him from where he'd been lying half dead in the road outside Privet Drive, suffer for it but that was nothing compared to what he planned on doing to the deatheaters that had hurt him so badly. "When I found you Severus hadn't even told me that you'd been captured."

"But how?" Harry asked a note of desperation in his voice. The potion had eased the physical pain he was in but couldn't do anything for the emotional anguish. Only time would heal those wounds. "I haven't got a clue how to apparate and I don't even have a wand anymore."

Albus smiled gently. "Sometimes the theory of a practise is totally irrelevant and magic can become based on intentions," he explained. "I have no way of knowing for certain, although I may be able to tell you more once you feel up to showing me the pensive memories of your ordeal but I believe that is what happened in your case. The biggest factor in apparition is a huge focus on your destination. Destination, deliberation, determination, I believe the ministry instructor's line is. I think that you were so determined to survive and so sure that you would find the help you needed at Hogwarts you were able to apparate even though you've never received any formal training in the practise."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I see. So what happens now, Professor Dumbledore?"

Albus looked at him sternly. "Harry I distinctly remember telling you on more than one occasion not to call me professor."

Harry rolled his eyes and Albus smiled slightly, pleased to see that in spite of the three horrific traumas he'd suffered in little more than a week, the loss of his godfather, the beating from the Dursleys and subsequent kidnapping and torture by the deatheaters, Harry's spirit hadn't been entirely broken. "So," Harry said sarcastically. "What happens now, Albus?"

"Now you focus on getting well," the headmaster said. "If you really are certain that you do not wish to see your friends this summer I'm happy for you to remain here. Once you're feeling better you can make use of the castle's facilities, within reason of course and I was thinking, considering the nightmares you regularly have, if you wish you could hold on to these quarters during the year if you don't wish to sleep in the dormitory."

Harry nodded, seeing the merit in the plan. He had been seriously uncomfortable being around his roommates, even Ron, during the frequent nightmares he'd had last year so having his own space would be good. From the position he was in, through the bedroom door it looked as if there was a reasonable sized living and study area in one direction and a bathroom in the other. "Thank you Albus. That'd be really good and I really would prefer to stay here for the summer."

As much as he loved his friends and knew that he would be welcomed at the Burrow, that had since temporarily replaced Grimmauld Place as Order headquarters, he really wasn't up to an entire summer of being coddled by Mrs Weasley, pressured to talk about how he was feeling by Hermione and having Ron try his best to act as if nothing had happened. It wasn't yet a week into the summer so once he was feeling better he imagined that he would have about six weeks or so to do as he pleased. Thoughts of studying his hardest, trying to get ahead and find something that would help him achieve his destiny as dictated by the bloody prophecy crossed his mind. Of course that would mean replacing everything that he'd lost between getting kicked out of Privet Drive and being kidnapped by the deatheaters. He had nothing left anymore, absolutely bloody nothing.

As if reading his thoughts, Albus smiled and retrieved two shrunken objects from the pocket of his robes. "I do actually have a piece of good news for you, Harry. I was able to recover your broom and invisibility cloak."

"Oh my god, Albus," Harry gasped, taking the two objects that could not be more precious to him as the headmaster resized them. "How did you get these?"

"The invisibility cloak has been passed down from generation to generation of your family for hundreds of years so can be traced using blood magic," Albus explained, knowing the attachment that Harry had to the cloak, not because it was rare and valuable but rather because it had once belonged to the father he would never get to know. "All I needed was a sample of your blood which I took while you were asleep and from there tracking it down proved relatively easy. It wasn't destroyed by deatheaters; it wasn't too far from where you fell over in the street. Your broom was with it."

Equally as attached to the top-of-the-line broom that had been a gift from his late godfather Harry gazed at both objects reverently. "Thank you for this, Albus. Thank you so much."

Albus smiled at him sadly. "You do not need to thank me, my boy. It was no real effort on my part and the least I could do seeing as a large part of the situation is my own fault. I just hope that one day you can forgive me for leaving you with those dreadful people."

Harry managed a wan smile. "There's nothing to forgive, Albus. I know you thought you were doing the best thing for me and besides, it's all in the past now, right?"

Albus found himself choking back tears as he gave his answer. "Thank you Harry. That is a remarkably mature attitude for you to take."

As the pair talked in the rarely used Hogwarts suite they were totally oblivious to the three mysterious beings that were watching and listening to them, invisible to the mortal world but able to move around and observe freely. The tallest of the three figures, the most powerful of them, shook his head. "This wasn't the way things were supposed to turn out for the boy," he said wearily. "This isn't good at all."

"Terrible," the only woman in the group said.

"We have to do something," the second male agreed.

A wicked smile crossed the woman's face. "I think I might know just the thing."

-----0---0---0-----

He floated in the darkness, his body aching like never before. He tried to remember where he was; even who he was but as hard as he tried all he could remember was darkness; lots and lots of pain and darkness without any origins. Not being able to see properly to look around for some pain relief potion, in a desperate effort to distract himself from the agony he was in he tried to focus on what he could hear around him.

"You're right," a male voice said. "This is just what the Potter boy needs." The eavesdropper frowned. Why did the name Potter sound familiar?

"Now he'll have the guidance that he needs," he heard a woman say happily. "Although I imagine it will take him some time to learn what being part of a real family feels like." He desperately wanted to know what was going on. Who was he? Where was he? Why did he hurt so much and who were the people around him? Who were they talking about?

A third voice joined in. "It will be difficult to explain."

He felt a gentle hand on his face as the female voice spoke again. "That is not our problem to worry about, it is this one's and besides, while I think it may take some convincing on his part the Potter boy will accept the situation eventually."

"Now we just need this one to wake up so we can prepare him," one of the men said and finally the eavesdropper began to see things a little more clearly. One of the people these three mysterious figures were talking about was him.

The hand brushed across his face once more and the woman spoke again. "Actually I think he already is awake."

"Really?" one of the men asked, sounding excited. "Are you sure?"

Needing to know what was going on the eavesdropper forced his eyes open even though they felt like lead, only to immediately wish to close them again when the bright light of wherever they were assuaged his eyeballs. "What's going on?" he croaked his voice weak from years of disuse. As his vision cleared so did his mind and as he remembered who he was and what was going on his life he leapt to his feet, ignoring the agony that the last curse he'd been hit with had inflicted. He didn't care what happened to him. All he cared about was his family and he had to get back to them. "Lily!" he choked, looking trying to get his bearings so he could apparate home to see what was left of his family. "Harry!"

The woman from before, a beautiful blonde with the palest blue eyes he'd ever seen, laid a hand on his arm. "Hush," she said soothingly. "You are not going anywhere just yet."

"The hell I'm not," the man said angrily, trying and failing to find his wand. "You don't understand. Voldemort's attacking. I have to get to my wife and son."

Both men shook their heads sadly but it was the taller of the two that spoke. "It will do no good Mr Potter. Voldemort has long since left your home."

Seeing the expressions on the men's faces James' legs bucked beneath him and he sank to the floor, assuming the worst. "Lily….Harry…..no……." he mumbled incoherently. Why did he have to be spared if they were gone? Without his wife and beloved son life wouldn't be worth living.

The woman smiled at him sadly. "Your son lives, Mr Potter."

James looked up at her hopefully, for now choosing not to focus on the fact his beloved Lily was most likely dead. "Well where is he, then?" he demanded. "Where's Harry?"

"Hush, Mr Potter," the second man said. "You will get to see your son soon enough but there are some things that you need to be made aware of before you do."

James wanted to argue the point but seeing the determined expressions on each of his mysterious host's faces he decided not to, decided that going along with whatever they wanted would prove the faster way to get back to Harry. "Well what, then?" he asked impatiently. "What is it that I have to know?"

The woman looked at him kindly. "Mr Potter you perished alongside your wife the night that Voldemort attacked your family," she said gently. "The attack happened on 31st October 1981 and the date today is 5th July 1996."

James stared at her incomprehensibly. If he was dead then how was he here talking to these three and for that matter who were they? If he and Lily really had been gone for nearly fifteen years then what had happened to Harry? There were so many questions that he wanted to ask but at the moment he couldn't quite seem to get his brain to connect with his mouth. A simple "What?" was all that he could manage.

It was the second man that explained. "Nearly fifteen years have passed since yours and your wife's deaths," he said. "Your son is coming up to sixteen years old now but there is a serious problem that I won't go into at the moment although the crux of the matter is that we have decided to return you to life as a reward and inspiration for your son. He is suffering greatly and we believe that having you back will go a long way to easing the many burdens he carries."

"What?" James choked. Surely he couldn't have heard that correctly. "Just who the hell are you people?"

The woman smiled at him again. "That is not important," she said, with a slight wave of her hand as once again the light around James became too bright for him to make out any detail. "It is time for you to go now. Things may be difficult to begin with but they will work themselves out in time. Good luck James Potter."

**There's the first one done – please tell me what you think. **


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